Hurt Him to Save Him
by Speedstreek360
Summary: Megatron becomes sick with a fatal disease. After finding this out, he does everything in his power to push the mech he loves away from him. Even if it means breaking his spark in the process. Set in TF G1 AU. Slash, no like? No read!
1. Prologue: Truly, Madly and Deeply

After much consideration, I have decided to rewrite this story and expand it. I would like to thank Morrigayn Dewyvern for helping me come up with the ideas to expand it, and I am so happy that they convinced me to do so.

This is set in my AU of Transformers G1, (emphasis on the AU!).

This is the prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Transfromers, it belongs to Hasbro. Period.

Warnings: angst, some interface(consensual)/ mentions of assault(non-con), and some scenes of sickness.

Also, there is slash. If you don't like it, please politely turn around and don't read this if you don't like slash.

enjoy!

...

Prologue: Truly, Madly and Deeply

...

One thing anyone would know about love is that it was never planned. One could not decide who they fall in love with, though many have tried and one in a trillion have succeeded in doing so. Sometimes, it is mistaken for hatred, other times people mistake lust, infatuation and obsession for love, before they realise they're true feelings after it ends in disaster.

But the strangest thing about love is that when one is truly in love, no one ever falls out of it. And those who do, may not have been in love to begin with and have yet to find it with the right person.

It was a powerful and dangerous emotion as well, that can easily lead to pain and suffering. And no one would know that better than Megatron and Optimus Prime.

They met by running into each other at the borderline between Kaon and Polyhex: The Prime was returning to Iacon through Kaon from an appointment with one of his councilors, while Megatron had been running to get to a weapons-smith that lived near the edge of the city to pick up some swords. It had been interesting when Megatron found his field of vision full of the color red, then with the Prime's slightly bewildered and embarrassed optics staring at him.

The two mechs had spent a few minutes apologizing, helping each other up, and trying to see if the other was alright, before introducing themselves. It had been a shock to the young gladiator when he had found out he had ran right smack into the leader of their planet, Optimus Prime, because he hadn't been paid attention to where he was running. Long story, short: the two mechs had quickly parted ways towards their separate destinations after making sure they were all right. But that didn't stop them from taking a slight glance back at each other when they parted ways, a small twinkle of interest in their optics.

It didn't end there however: it seemed that whenever they decided to leave their own dwellings, they happened to bump into each other, and the more times they saw each other, they struck up a conversation, each one getting longer and longer as the unplanned meetings turned into a most unexpected friendship. And then, as more time passed, it had progressed and grew slowly but surely into something much more, as the link that seemed to bind them together in friendship, grew stronger into a bond of love.

If only they knew the dark, heart-breaking future that was laid out for them.

...

Review please, and I hope you like it. And again, thank you for inspiring me to expand this Morrigayn Dewyvern, you are awesome!


	2. Chapter 1: Pop the Question

Disclaimer: I do not own Transfromers, it belongs to Hasbro. Period.

Warnings: angst, some interface(consensual)/ mentions of assault(non-con), and some scenes of sickness.

Also, there is slash. If you don't like it, please politely turn around and don't read this if you don't like slash.

Again, thank you Morrigayn for some help with this!

enjoy!

...

Chapter 1: Pop the Question

...

The silver gladiator was in Iacon, sitting outside one of the crystal gardens, the usual meeting spot for him and his lover. The sun of Cybertron shone brightly down on him, warming his armor down to the proto-form skin beneath. He's been sitting there for about a mega-cycle.

He had a rather pensive look on his face, chin resting on his coal black fingertips, elbows on his knees, and staring off at the mechs and femmes around him. Many were out to enjoy the morning the way they saw fit, others were off to work themselves into exhaustion and few were lazing about, doing nothing. Every time the silver mech came to the city of Iacon, it still amazed him how busy it was, yet there was absolutely no reason to fear it. No reason, except what would happened if the High Council ever found out he was the Prime's lover. It was dangerous enough being a gladiator in Kaon and being involved with someone like Optimus Prime could lead to a lot of political turmoil amongst the traditional Councilors. And he didn't give a flying frag about it, as long as they were happy, together and they stayed out of danger.

Suddenly, there was a light tap on his helm a soft clang ringing him out of his thoughts. The silver mech looked over and up into the sapphire optics of the blue, crimson and cloud white mech. In each of the two cyan servos was a cube of energon.

He stood up with a small smile, "I was wondering when you would get here…" his voice was lax, and gentle when he spoke. He had nothing to worry about today really, the gladiator pits were going to be closed for a few solar-cycles for some renovating. He had gotten an unexpected comm. from Prime to meet with him earlier that day. He agreed to, for what better way was there to spend this unexpected time off than with his lover?

"Sorry I took so long. It's hard to get past Ratchet when you are overdue for a check-up," The Prime explained, "I also made a small stop to get you some energon, as you can very well see. I didn't know if you refueled or not, so I got two just in case…"

"I did refuel, as a matter of fact," Megatron answered him, "But I appreciate your offering," he took the warm energon in his hands, reaching up to trace the rim. He would refuel later when he needed it, "So, what did you call me down for?"

He could tell the Prime was smiling behind his mask, by the way his optics twinkled slightly, "I need to ask you something, though first I think we need some privacy," blue optics searched through the crowd, as if searching for something or someone in particular. Megatron did the same. One never knew who would be watching and use this against them. Optimus gently nudged him forwards, in order to follow the older mech.

Immediately a light, almost non-existent blush fell on the gladiator's face plates by the fact he was being led forwards. Not that he minded, he just wasn't used to having another mech being able to make him follow. In fact, down in the arena he fought at, it was usually the silver mech who was able to get the others gladiators to listen and be subordinate. They all respected and feared the silver mech, since he was the greatest fighter in the pits and was also fair with them. Very unlike their boss, Clench, who seemed to have a tendency of selling out or punishing gladiators who displeased him and couldn't pay off their debts to him.

The silver mech was brought out of his thoughts, when he felt Prime nuzzle his helm as they made their way towards the entrance to one of the crystal gardens—a gift to the city of Iacon by one of the Primes before Optimus—and walked through it.

No matter how many times they went into the Crystal Iaconian gardens, it never ceased to make the silver mech's very spark flutter at its beauty. It reminded him of the first time Prime had brought him in here: how he seemed to act like a child, studying and exploring it all, while laughing as the light glass petals from the amber glass blossoms lightly swayed down from their grip on the techno-organic, black iron branches. Even though he felt embarrassed a little afterwards for acting so foolishly, the feeling of happiness hadn't left him until he returned to the arena. And it felt good to feel the weightlessness of a burden lifted from his shoulders if only for a few clicks.

The crimson fight crystal roses left reflections of their glassy surfaces on the usually pale, dull blank walls that surrounded the crystal garden. The sun just made it all look alive.

Megatron felt the gently fingers of the Prime caress his shoulder plating and felt a small weight against the back of his shoulder struts. The silver mech, since they were in the privacy of the garden, placed his own hand over the Prime's. It was a moment they could share in here, one of the few places they were safe to show their affection and love for each other without a more serious risk of being caught. Not that it wasn't risky enough already.

A soft metallic chime-like sound filled the garden from an amber willow when a small breeze blew past it's soft yellow leaves.

"No matter how many times I come in here, It still amazes me how beautiful everything still looks," Megatron whispered, his optics still on the different colored techno-organic creations.

Optimus looked at him, watched as shades of violet, cyan, topaz and crimson shined off the silver mech's armor in small speckles of light from Cybertron's sun. His spark gave a lurch, like it was trying to reach for the silver mech's, while it pounded in slight anxiety.

A stellar-cycle. They have been together for a stellar-cycle, and already, Optimus couldn't really imagine anyone else he wanted at his side for the rest of his existence. He opened the sub-space on the side of his hip plating.

The Prime, taking a one small step at a time, slowly slide himself behind Megatron and rested the side of his helm against the silver mech's temple. He took a moment to intake the soft scent of smoke and oil mixed together in a deep, tingly aroma that made the red and blue mech want to rest his face plate against his lover's neck and breathe it in until he had his fill. And he knew even that would not satisfy him.

He wanted much more than that, and with that thought in mind, the Prime took Megatron's hand.

The silver was brought out of his stupor when he felt something slide into one his hands. Shuttering his optics, he looked down to see what the Prime had place in his hand.

One moment, he was calm and serene, probably the most he's ever been in his life, but now his optics widened and his spark stopped when he saw a silver ring like object, big enough to slip over his hand.

"Prime…" his vocoder seemed to have frozen, making his voice grow hoarse through his shock.

Optimus smiled behind his mask, taking one of the ebony hands and caressing it, "It's a Bonding Band…."

The moment those words left the mech's lip, panic shot through his entire system. He barely kept it back, trying to think rationally, even though he knew where this was going.

Bonding bands were quite sacred. When a couple wished to become spark-mates, they either made each other a bonding band to signify their claim over each other, the much more preferred method, or they bought one from a skilled artisan if they are unable to make one themselves.

They were made to be unique and created to show others that one was bonded to a specific mech, and should the spark mates die, they are buried with it one, to signify their faithfulness to their mate.

Never, in Megatron's whole existence, had he ever seen a gladiator wear a bonding band. Because to wear one in the pits could be an instant death sentence, should the material prove to be worth something.

Optimus watched the silver mech holding the small, silver ring in his fingers tips, studying it. The silver mech was trembling slightly, as he looked at it. The bonding band has small, gold-colored glyphs on it that signified protection, love and faithfulness. He had spent many hours for the past seven solar-cycles, making it. He wanted it to be special and unique, made only for the mech before him to wear. Him and only him.

However, the lack of response started to worry the Prime.

"…..do you know what I am asking you by giving you this Megatron?" he whispered into his lover's audio.

Megatron kept himself from trembling, though he didn't know how, while nodding to the Prime in confirmation of his knowledge of these. He gulped, looking at the ring, as a conflict began to form in his thoughts.

Optimus nuzzled his lover's neck, before turning him around slowly and made him look at him, "…then what will you answer be?"

One side of him was telling to decline the Prime's offer. If he wore a bonding band in the gladiatorial arena, the others would get suspicious and begin asking who the mech was. Or worse, spies could follow him wherever he went and discover him and Prime. He couldn't trust anyone down there, except for a fair few like Soundwave, his bunk mate and Soundwave's creations, and they all did everything in their power to keep him out of trouble. And there was the risk of dying….and he would hate it if a mech removed this beautiful band from him to sell to someone…..

However, another side of Megatron was urging him to say yes. He loved the Prime. No matter how much danger he was put in by being with him, he loved him. He was kind and gentle, and he was unlike other high-classed mechs. In fact, he was quite compassionate and understanding. And Prime loved him.

Both sides were proving valid points, yet he couldn't come to a decision.

He looked from the ring to Optimus and then back. He repeated the process for a few moments, before he sighed. He took Prime's hand in his, and placed the band back in the azure palm, and then closing the finger tips over it.

When his optics met Optimus, it seemed like the Prime could see his conflicted emotions, and beyond that, "….I'll think about it Prime…."

Prime's spark filled with a sense of disappointment, yet it still seem to keep itself raised up at the answer. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't rejection either.

For some reason, this didn't surprise him.

"All right then…." He said softly, bowing his helm. Then he sighed, "Well it's better than no…."

His matter-of-fact tone, caused a smirk to form on the silver mech's face plates, a little something left over when the silver mech pushed his conflicted thoughts back a mile so he could try to lighten the atmosphere of intensity that had seemed to almost settle over them.

He would think more on it later in the evening, at the when the sun disappeared to give in to night, when he returned to the Rings and thought it all over.

In the meantime though, Megatron took Optimus' free hand and walked with him through the garden for the rest of the afternoon.

...

Mushy ending to chapter, yes, do I care? No.

Review please.


	3. Chapter 2: Signs, Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Transfromers, it belongs to Hasbro. Period.

Warnings: angst, some interface(consensual)/ mentions of assault(non-con), and some scenes of sickness.

Also, there is slash. If you don't like it, please politely turn around and don't read this if you don't like slash.

Okay, I'm sorry for the delay guys, life and school have been hectic and I've been TRYING to get my butt in gear!

And Morrigayn, thank you so much for helping me with ideas, hope you feel better!

enjoy!

...

Chapter 2: Signs, Part 1

...

For as long as he could remember, Megatron has always been fighting, be it mentally, physically or emotionally. When it came to living in Kaon, if you weren't born strong, then you could do two things: get the frag out of there as soon as possible or die.

He was one of the lucky ones. Ever since he was a sparkling, he's had to fight in some way, shape or form: be it a verbal argument with his own creators, surviving the abuse to his person since his toddler days or enduring all the emotions he had to block behind a mental barrier in his mind as he faced death every day since he reached the age to work down in that pitch black darkness where mechs danced with death every solar-cycle of their existence to give energon to the higher caste, as well as the battle to stay alive when he joined the gladiators of Kaon in the pit fights.

One wrong action could warrant his death sentence faster than a microsecond.

Megatron walked with three other gladiators that he would battle tonight. In one hand was a large, energon sword and around the silver mech's waist was a small belt with sheaths for his other weapons, should his blade fall from him in the battle ahead.

He licked his lip plating as he followed the other warriors to the arena. Right then, a processor ache began to form in his helm. Irritation soon followed, as he gritted his pointed denta together.

"Primus, not now…." He hissed to himself, as he and the others made a left turn towards the entrance into the battle arena.

For the past two breems, he's been feeling…..strange. It was weird really, since he's never had a problem with processor aches, not in the mine and not when he started his gladiatorial career down here.

So far, he hasn't gone to see a medic. The pain had only slightly increased and it hasn't affected his performance too much that he lost a battle. For all he knew, it probably had something to do with the lighting. He's known mechs from the energon mines who have terrible processor aches due to the lack of light from working too much down there.

Megatron rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck to help himself relax. It was just a processor ache, and it wouldn't kill him. He sighed softly and for the moment, just ignored it, putting all his focus on the oncoming fight that lay waiting for him.

…..

The seats surrounding the gladiator's battleground, mechs and femmes crowded. Here in Kaon, the pit fights were the high lights of the evening, even for those who weren't born and/or raised in Kaon.

There were some sections blocked off, so that only those from the higher class could sit. But there was one mech, the color of dark coal and crimson, and his small band of cronies, sitting down in the front of the stands amongst the commoners.

Straxus was the mech's name. He came from a noble family, his father being a formal general and a part of the High Council. And like his father, he enjoyed watching the fighters as they raged in there brutal blood baths, although, lately he's been coming to see only one mech fight, a silver warrior that moved fluidly, with the grace only few gladiators could master and make it seem like their fighting style was a form of dancing. Ever movement the silver gladiator could be seen as an outlet of his emotions. And what a display it was to see the burning determination and heated passion he placed in his skills with each blow and swipe of his sword.

It left Straxus mesmerized and completely absorbed by the lovely sight, even when the silver mech was covered in energon blood and exhausted from the violent attacks.

Soundwave's optics flashed behind his dark red visor, as his oldest creation, Ravage stayed near his pedes. The blue and white mech watched as the mech from the higher class set his burning red optics on the openings of the gladiator pit that gave the fighting gladiators access into it. If it wasn't for his face plate, everyone would see the slight disdain in the glare Soundwave gave him.

He's been watching the mech like a cyber-condor did a petro-rat.

Ever since he and Megatron had joined the pits as young mechs, Soundwave kept his optics and probed minds in search of mechs who could either become the silver gladiator's sponsor, or if they weren't worth the energon they drank in their system.

But the danger of having a sponsor was that most that were from the higher caste used their money and power to get the powerful gladiators into their berths. And it was hard finding one with enough interest to give the silver mech the credits, but not be lecherous, slagtards.

It was an even bigger pain in the aft for Soundwave, since he could see into their minds and see their fantasies and desires that made him shiver in slight disgust every time.

He sensed Laserbeak and Buzzkill up in the rafters of the ring. They had wanted to go off and watch the fight and see Megatron in battle. Within his chest plating, where a containment chamber was placed, the red visored mech could feel his three youngest creations trembling excitement, the emotions from the crowd seeping through to them from the outside.

Ravage stayed where he was by his carrier's pedes. Because he was the eldest, he took it upon himself to being his family and sometimes, if needed, Megatron's protector. He was the most skilled of his siblings, a decent tracker and good at hiding with his dark armor merging him in the shadows when need be.

Soundwave knelt down to allow his son to climb on to his shoulder plating and then took a seat in the outer part of the stands. Clasping his fingers together, the mech watched as the empty ring was lit up so that every one of the onlookers would be able to watch the match perfectly.

The stoic telepath watched, as the gladiators entered, ready to battle.

From a distance, the blue mech could sense Straxus' delight when Megatron stepped out after his opponents had gone out ahead of him.

…..

Megatron almost winced at the sudden light shining in his optics, as he walked forwards. It seemed to make his processor ached worse than he thought. He straightened his posture immediately when he reached the crowds around him.

He couldn't let them think anything was wrong with him. The last thing he needed were some fraggers who would take any chance to tear his spark out before all those in the arena. Purely for their own twisted pleasure at seeing the young gladiator be destroyed completely.

The silver mech turned to face the three gladiators, ruby optics gaining a dangerous gleam as he readied his sword. The others followed suit: the thick, black and yellow mech readied his mace, the young acid green and neon orange triple-changer twirled his two sais in both hands in a show of his professional skill, and the nearly all red seeker mech raised his spear in preparation.

He took a moment to remind himself that these three before him were now his enemies. He could not think of them as comrades. He would not think of them as he would in the training room, as his friends. Once he was out on the arena, there were no allies that would help, no friends to come to his aid. Only foes he would have to slaughter for the spectators around him.

The four faced each other, ready for the signal to initiate their fight. Different hues and shapes of their optics met in glowers of an all too familiar desperate instinctual need for survival and victory.

Megatron ignored the ache, in an attempt to keep himself from losing focus.

A resounding, loud buzz resounded throughout the gladiatorial arena and snapped them all into action, causing the four to throw themselves at the nearest opponent to them to attack.

The seeker reached him first, attempting to sink his spear through his chassis. He missed, when the gladiator dodged it with a well-placed pivot, using the bottom of his sword to hit the seeker in the back of his helm. Unfortunately, the seeker was quick to duck his helm in a small front flip.

Megatron spun his sword a moment before he swiped at his enemy, his blade being blocked at each forwards jab, uppercut and strike he performed. The seeker was quick and quite flexible in his movements, keeping the sword from embedding itself into his person.

A grunt and a roar distracted them for only a brief moment.

The massive mech seemed to be having a hard time fighting his opponent. The smaller mech was quick and had managed to place a few cuts and slashes to the larger enemy.

He barely dodged the seeker's spear in time when it aimed straight for his neck. The sudden movement caused a jolt of agony to go up his back and made him cringe slightly. The ache in his processor worsened, reminding him of his little nuisance.

_Focus mech, this is no time to give in to minor discomforts…._

The seeker ran at him, growling in slight frustration when the silver mech jumped out of the way. While they fought, Megatron began making a small plan.

If he took out this seeker now, that left the two other mechs to deal with. He could help the smaller mech bring the larger one down, giving them both a brief advantage. But then after that he would have to kill the triple-changer with the energon sais.

A resounding clang was heard as his blade met with the seeker's spear. He grunted in effort, hoping he could break the spear in half if he applied enough force.

Megatron growled, before he kicked the seeker away from him and sent him backwards into the wall of the arena. He moved before his opponent could react.

….

Soundwave remained perfectly still, even as the other mechs and femmes around him cringed when Megatron slashed his opponent's throat open, the fluids dripping down his entire front in a mix of violet and black streams from the main lines in his throat.

The seeker sputtered, as lines formed from his mouth when he coughed up a minimal amount of energon and oil. The colors of his frame slowly faded to different shades of neutral grey. Soundwave flinched when he felt Straxus' delight at Megatron's victory. He sensed it coming towards him in small waves of glee and a pleased feeling.

Straxus was obviously impressed so far with Megatron's performance. Only fifteen clicks into the fight and already, his first opponent lied dead at his pedes.

There was a sudden smashing noise, followed by a guttural, gurgle before there was a splat and the echo of metal clanging against the floor. The crowds, including Megatron, looked over in the direction of the sickening noise.

The triple-changer's greyed out corpse lay on the ground, chest plate torn open, revealing his mutilate spark chamber, while the large mech held his mace up in the air where the dead mech's life liquids dripped slowly down on to his fist, staining it.

Soundwave tensed slightly when he felt a small jolt of pain coming from Megatron. He looked at his friend with concern from beneath his mask and visor. Had the dead seeker hit him somewhere important? Megatron didn't show much of his pain when he battled, physical or otherwise. He had strong control over his emotions and actions that would rival the telepath's own self-control, when he fought before the public eye of the council and the upper-class mechs and femmes.

He narrowed his yellow optics, feeling Ravage move to look at Megatron from Soundwave's optic level. The slight worry from his cassettes filled his spark. Immediately, the spy sent pulses of comfort to them, even though he has a sense of unease He noticed the ever so slight wince of Megatron's body and the tension in his shoulders, neck and helm.

Those small little details were all the blue mech needed in order to know something was up. He knew him well enough to know that something bothered him and made him uneasy.

Visor flashing, Soundwave watched the remaining two gladiators turn to face each other.

….

The only thing running through Megatron's mind was curses, as he stood alone before the larger mech. He bit into his lower lip, the two fangs on his top denta leaving a small gash.

He was unfocused, as if someone had knocked him off course and he had hit his helm right smack into a wall of pure electrum. He couldn't keep his figure from shivering in pain when it worsened with every minute he was standing there.

The giant before him laughed when he saw him tremble.

"Do my optics deceive me?" a rumbling snicker full of mirth swept over his audios, "Or does it seem that the great pit fighter, Megatron, is afraid of me?"

His energon boiled at those words from the gold and black groundling's lip plating. It made his tanks tighten, his hands hold his weapons in a death grip and the pain in his processor seemed to have been forgotten at the moment. His anger seemed to numb his entire body, as he went into a battle stance before his new opponent.

Immediately, the gold and black mech went serious, mace at the ready as well.

The anticipation, anxiety and excitement from the crowd seemed to seep into the two gladiators and fill them with a new energy. Megatron charged at him, sword at the ready and prepared himself to scrap him. He ignored the increasing agony that sent his helm pounding. He couldn't focus on that, he needed to kill this mech and get out of here. But it seemed his body was in disagreement with him as he staggered for a moment the middle of his assault of the larger mech.

It all happened in a sudden blur.

It was like being hit by a transport shuttle full of mechs the size of the guardian robots that guarded Cybertron's cities. The impact was worse thought than the blow though. He felt the pain in his head suddenly spread down his spine, making him arch slightly in sudden pain. He coughed harshly, tasting the smallest drop of his own energon on his glossa. Three spasms rocketed up his body, as if trying to force something out of his throat and through his mouth.

Suddenly, a fist half the size of his helm pinned him to the wall by his neck.

It seemed after being slammed into the wall, his vision was suddenly out of focus. Nothing was clear to him. The mech before him seemed to have two others with him.

He couldn't see the punch coming, as his processor seemed to become clouded.

The enemy punched him right in the cheek, three times and making his helm snap to the side. There were small cracking noises with each hit.

It didn't stop with just punches either. He was thrown across the arena again, sliding across the floor with a screeching noise and sparks flying off his armor. He got to his pedes, stumbling on them, as he tried to regain clear vision. Something rammed into his side, adding more pain to the ache and strain of his body. He was grabbed by the helm before he could react and was thrown practically to the other side.

He grunted as his body rolled across the floor like a sack full of energon goodies down a ramp.

Megatron could hear and feel those large pedes moving towards him at a slow leisurely pace, like the owner had all the time in the world.

…

Straxus' optics widened to astronomical proportions at the unbelievable sight within his vision. It was like he was a having a weird dream or lost in an illusion.

Megatron, known as the undefeated gladiator of the pits and the only one with enough grace and precision to earn his title as a pit fighter, was getting the energon and oil beaten out of him by this giant buffoon?! What atrocity was this?!

It was almost unreal, to the point that Straxus pinched himself to make sure he really was seeing this. It filled his entire being with dread and rage.

If Megatron lost this battle, then the plans of becoming his sponsor would be for nothing!

He prayed to Primus, that this gladiator before him won, or by the well and the pits, there would be energon splattering the walls, beside Megatron's.

Soundwave, for the first time in stellar-cycles, was shocked and scared for his friend and his roommate. What was going on with him?

Ever since they were sparklings, the telepath had never seen the silver mech like this. He felt Ravage shaking nervously on his shoulders, as well as his three youngest within his chest compartment. The sight of Megatron down on the ground, tempted Soundwave to used his telepathic abilities on the giant mech.

He wanted to, but he held himself back. If he even attempted it, Megatron would know it was him and if there was one thing Wave knew about his best friend, it was that he never wanted help if he didn't ask for it. Megatron had too much pride to let anyone try to help him without his say so, especially when it came to battles in the pits. In fact, the silver mech abhorred being seen as a mech in distress.

Soundwave placed a comforting hand on Ravage, and took in shaky intakes as he did so.

All he could do for Megatron now was watch and see what he did.

…..

Megatron moved to his hands and knees, groaning softly.

Every inch of his body, from his protoform to the wires, sensors and tubing inside of him was in pure, angry, red agony. He coughed up more energon from his systems, while his competition stood over him.

He knew the mech was smirking by the way his body was lax and when he chuckled at him.

Once again, the large servo grabbed him by the back of his neck, only this time, he was lifted up so he was optic level with the big, tall, black and gold mech.

He probably looked like scrap right now from all the punishment his body was being put through, on the outside and inside. The grip on his neck tightened slightly.

"Hmph….You know, I'm terribly disappointed, Megatron. When I heard that me and the other two weaklings that tried to win today were going to be up against you, I actually believed there was going to be a real challenge for me today," There was a snort, "I was wrong, it seems. You're no different from the other fighter's here…."

While the mech before him verbally tried to bring him down, Megatron's optics returned to some form of focus. At least he wasn't seeing three anymore, thought it was still blurry for him. He watched as the mech held up his club, the spikes at the head of it gleaming in the dim lighting.

The silver mech glared at his opponent. He found himself trying to find a way to break free and fend himself off against this fragger. Coughing slightly, Megatron glared at him.

"Aaw, don't be like that….." the taunt made the silver mech want to spit on him, "I wonder how your precious Prime would react to your pathetic demise?"

Everything inside him froze at the spoken title of his lover. Immediately, Megatron looked at the mech before him with wide optics.

He grinned, licking his lips, "That's right mech, for the past few solar-cycles, I've been following you, studying you so, to see what weaknesses you possessed….to be honest, I'm surprised the Prime waste's his time one you…." he leaned forwards, purring, at Megatron's horrified optics, "Maybe I'll pay him a little visit and tell him about your tragic death at my hands, before seeing what makes him so special, hmm?" he didn't say anything else, before he dropped his prey to the ground. After a few seconds of savoring this sweet moment, he lifted his mace to beat the silver mech, until he gave in to oblivion.

He knew. The mech before him, the one preparing to kill him, the one who had just beaten him to scrap….He _knew._

The words took only a few seconds to sink into Megatron's helm. The moment they did something snapped, as the mace came down to smash his helm.

CLANG!

...

To be continued...

...

CLIFFY! Hehehehehe...

Review please.


	4. Chapter 3: Signs, Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Transfromers, it belongs to Hasbro. Period.

Warnings: angst, some interface(consensual)/ mentions of assault(non-con), and some scenes of sickness.

Also, there is slash. If you don't like it, please politely turn around and don't read this if you don't like slash.

Again guys, I am sorry for taking so long and leaving you in suspense! Hope this chapter makes up for it!

As always, Morrigayn, thank you so much for helping me with ideas! You da bomb baby!

enjoy!

...

Chapter 3: Signs part 2

...

His servo shook from its grip on head of the spiked club, his life fluid of oil and energon splattering across his face plates and slowly dripping down his arm from the impact.

Lifting his helm, his body still trembling, Megatron grit his denta in a snarl glaring at his opponent. His red optics shined with an inner rage that was slowly seeping through his circuits and overruling his logic circuits and seemed to numb out the pain. His enemy almost too shocked for words and movement at the sight of the silver mech's new surge of strength, stared a moment.

A moment was all the silver mech needed. He stood up, roaring at the slight pain running through his circuits as he slammed his free, curled up servo into the mech's nasal ridge with a satisfying crushing sound followed by a swift kick to his abdomen and smashing his helmet into the other's forehelm, forcing him to release the mace as well as forcing him to take a few steps back.

He gave the larger fighter little time to recover, as he took the handle of the spiked club in his free servo and yanked it's sharp, spiked head out of his servo.

The giant before him looked up, spitting some fluid from his mouth on to the ground, while his broken nasal ridge was bleeding out violet liquid. He gave an angry hiss as he turned to face the little silver slagger.

CRUNCH!

Red orbs narrowed in hatred, mixed with murderous protection and deep, deep infuriation as the weapon connected to its owner's crotch.

The pain receptors felt on fire form the impact of the mace against his most sensitive circuitry, his energon splattering out and the very agony rendering him to silence as there were no words or sound to describe the agony.

Megatron removed the weapon with a hard pull of his servos and he watched the giant warrior fall to his knees trying to stop the bleeding from his intimate circuitry.

A small, twinkle crossed Megatron's optics as he stared at the injured mech. He just stood there in silence, his entire body still and as solemn as stone. He watched the mech try to get up and watched him fall from the excruciating, flaring pain.

"I'll kill you…"

The calm, cold, abhorring whisper made the mech snap his helm up to stare at the silver mech.

Megatron tightened his grip on the handle, shoulders hunched, denta bared and optics narrowed.

"For threatening my partner, I'll kill you, you worthless, corpulent excuse of a gladiator…." He lifted the mace.

….

Soundwave slapped a servo over Ravage's optics out of his creator instinct to block violence and gore of any form from scarring him. Though he knew Ravage had seen and done things that would make grown mechs tanks churn, he sometimes couldn't help but still think of his cassettes as his little sparklings.

His wince was barely noticeable, as he watched Megatron break open the much larger mech's helm. The metal crumpled, cracked and caved in from the impact the resounding clang almost overriding the silver gladiator's roar of rage.

He looked at Megatron, briefly scanning his processor in an attempt to understand what he had gotten so enraged about. The reason made him want to rub at his optics, despite the swelling relief that filled him.

He didn't flinch as the crowd around him stood up, cheering, screaming and yelling their approval. He could distinctly hear clapping and a hearty laugh, that caused the navy blue telepath to look at Straxus. The High-class mech looked most ecstatic at the turn of events.

Soundwave rolled his optics before looking back at his friend, concern for his earlier setback making him wonder what was going on earlier in the battle.

He would ask about that later when he went to see the mech in the med. bay. With a nod to Ravage, he mentally ordered Laserbeak and Buzzsaw to meet him outside the med. bay. Ravage shook his helm with a small huff of irritation. He gave an annoyed glare at his creator for blocking the view before focusing on keeping his balance on the blue mech's shoulders.

…

It felt like hundreds of daggers were going through him. Each step sent a jolt of pain through his spinal array and helm.

Megatron entered the cavern, dropping the weapon he had used and leaving his original ones out in the arena. It seemed the strange numbness that had filled him during that fight, had finally slipped away and left him with the aches he had caused to his own body.

He stopped for a moment to lean against the walls of the cavern, panting from the exhaustion. He felt like shutting down right there, giving in to the sweet bliss of unconsciousness.

First he had to get to the med. bay, have his servo fixed up, have a scan of his systems and hopefully it was just a temporary glitch in his systems. Yeah, that was probably it, just a glitch easily taken care of by some medical formula and a download for firewalls….

Unfortunately, as he moved to take a step forwards, Megatron's body and processor seemed to have other plans. He legs caved in, weak in the aftermath of his fight, and he fell face first to the floor. His helm received a hard smack that sent him into the sweet darkness of stasis lock.

…..

Optimus sighed, as he glared at the stack of data-pads on his pale, blue metal desk.

It was the third stack this morning, just delivered when he had just finished half of the second pile given to him. The data-pads were a mix of reports, petitions, contracts, treaties, and anything else the Council keeps throwing at him throughout the solar-cycle.

Light reflecting off the buildings and towers around him and shining into his office. He gave a soft sigh, staring at the soft glass orchids from the crystal gardens below.

Right he wished he could just smack his helm against his desk and hopefully knock himself into stasis until the end of his work day, but he knew he would only double his load for tomorrow and stay longer in his office and therefore lose spending time with his lover.

He made sure all his work and duties as a Prime were done on time just for that reason. It was what got him through the day.

The Prime opened up his sub-space compartment and gently picked up the bonding band. He focused on it and watched how it glint in the light from the sun outside.

His spark ached slightly. Optimus, though he was known to be very patient, felt anxious and in need of knowing if Megatron would accept his bonding band. He wanted very much to know if he would or not, but also, he did not want to feel like he was pressuring him. He understood that if he pushed for too much, instead of letting the mech go at his own pace, in his own time, it could lead to irreversible mistakes.

Like how his parents bonded. It had all be planned by his grandparents and they had pushed them both to their limits and had them bond when they had just entered into their adult years.

The bonding had been rushed, unpleasant and unfulfilling. There was no love in the relationship, just a bitter existence shared between the two beings. The only thing that had kept his parents together before they were laid on to rest on their death beds was Optimus being born. Their love for their sparkling was enough to help them stand each other.

Prime didn't want to make the same mistakes his parents did.

Optimus looked at the glass orchids against, before a smile fell across his face plates. When he saw the flowers from the crystal gardens, warmth always filled him. They reminded him of the one time in the gardens where he and Megatron would go to hide away from the world for a while. The walls around them had felt like a shield from the disapproving eyes of the outside and he could not help but see that place as a safe haven for him and his lover.

He only wished he didn't have to keep it a secret, that he could declare to the universe how much he loved the gladiator. Yet, it was a faraway dream with a slim to none chance of ever coming true.

He placed the bonding band back in his drawer with a soft sigh as he returned to his work.

For the next couple of mega-cycles, he had gotten through to the third pile while answering a few comm.'s from councilors and the senate, reminding him of planned events for the next deca-cycle, and a fair few attempting to arrange a meeting with a few mechs and femmes they believed could be potential mates for him, though he politely declined their offers.

It was one of the things he found annoying about councilors. Thought there were a lot of lovely mechs and femmes in the higher-class, he only could see the narcissitic and artificiality in the when he conversed with them. The only one he wanted, and needed was the beautiful gladiator he hoped to see later.

…..

It came so sudden, that not even a warning from Primus above could have prepared him.

Megatron was forced awake from the black void of unconsciousness by a small weight landed directly on his abdomen and causing him to wince and hiss at the sudden unpleasant pain that went up his spine. He groaned, on-lining his optics and squawking in surprise to see a certain cyber-jaguar's helm nuzzling his with a soft purr, even though his vision was started out blurry.

He went lax and sighed, leaning his helm back with a grunt.

"Ravage. I have told you once, I have told you many times, not to tackle me on the med. berth after a pit fight, especially when I am in pain," his voice was soft and raspy.

Apparently, Ravage did not hear him and went to curl himself around the silver mech's helm, purring in relief and happiness at the fact that Megatron was okay and safe in the med. bay.

There was a soft chuckle, making the silver gladiator look from the corner of his optics as his friend Soundwave.

"Ravage: Worried about you. Soundwave: Relieved you are alive," the navy blue mech's visor glinted in the light of the med. bay, before his two creations, Laserbeak and Buzzkill, both swooped in and landed on either side of Megatron.

Looks between the two cyber-condors and then tilting his helm back slightly at Ravage, Megatron took in a deep intake and sighed before he shook his helm with a small smile forming on his face plates.

Every time he ended up in the med. bay, it never ceased to make him smile when Soundwave's creations would come see him out of pure concern and to keep him company. Sometimes to seek comfort from him in order for them to be at peace and to be convinced he was going to be okay, whether it took only a few words or a long night of snuggling against him and watching over him. If anyone laughed at the cassettes for this, Megatron and Soundwave would kill them first, and then ask for apologies afterwards.

Though he was not their creator, he had been there ever since they were just little sparks in Soundwave's gestation chamber. He had protected them when Soundwave was sick or injured from a fight, he made sure they stayed out of trouble with the other gladiators and he was not afraid to admit he enjoyed their company (although the twins, Rumble and Frenzy, he could use a break from).

"Query: what happened out in the arena today?"

The silver mech tensed slightly, "A lot happened in there."

"Rephrase," Soundwave crossed his arms over his chest plates, like a stern parent that wanted to confirm their suspicions before deciding to lecture their child, "Query: What was going on with you? Megatron: almost lost. "

Rolling his optics, while scratching under Buzzkill's beak, Megatron relaxed.

"I've been having terrible migraines lately," he admitted.

He was stared at for a moment, before Soundwave cocked his hip slightly, asking for a bit more information to Megatron's answer.

He gladiator looked at his friend, "I've been stressed lately and think it's starting to get to me. I haven't really been handling it as well as I usually do…."

"Query: Has it anything to do with the P—?"

The telepath was cut off by a raised digit and a warning glower, as the medic entered. Soundwave immediately straightened up and kept himself quiet as the medic nodded to him and then came over to the silver mech.

"Well, well, you sure gave us an interesting match today, Megatron," the medic smiled, picking up the welded and bandaged servo where the head of the mace had collided with it.

Megatron gave a small smirk, "I try, sir."

"Mm-hm," the medic picked up one of his scanners, placing it on the small tray beside the med. berth, before he picked up a data-pad and stylus, "now what's this I hear about migraines?"

The silver mech stiffened slightly. Soundwave tensed as well, feeling the paranoia peaking and sending small waves of negative emotions. He sent a soothing pulse back to try and calm the silver mech down.

"Well…you see doctor, I have been having some migraines lately," he muttered, reluctant to honestly say anything more.

The medic jotted it down on the data-pad, "Mm-hmmmm," he pressed something at the top, standing beside the silver mech, as he kept his optics glued to the data-pad, "Is that all Megatron?"

"No sir…." He sighed, "Sometimes, along with the migraines, I feel agonizing jolts of pain in my spinal array and there are other times when I can't focus on anything due to the pain and at times I feel nauseous or very weak….and I sometimes faint…." He gritted out the last few parts. He didn't like admitting that he could give in to weakness, but in this case, he should just tell him the symptoms, get the medication and then get the frag out of there as soon as he was able to.

The medic jotted it down on the data-pad, before placing it on the table again.

"It sounds like someone's been working their systems too hard. I can supply you with some painkillers that you can drink before you head out to fight and go to recharge. They last about twelve mega-cycles at a time so they should help," the medic smiled at him, before going to one of his cabinets, reading the labels of each medication to see which one was the right one, before picking up a small bottle with glowing blue capsules. He went over to Megatron with them and handed them to him. He wrote down the prescription on a data pad for him, so that if anyone asked him about the medicine, he could show them and they'll know he wasn't doing anything stupid.

"The two of them twice a solar-cycle, for the next eight solar-cycles with low-grade energon and return here so I can run some scans and tests to see if they are helping.

Megatron tilted his helm, "Does this mean I am allowed to leave sir?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, you may leave in a few minutes. I want you to return to your quarters, take your medication and rest for the rest of the day. I will call Clench and let him know you are not feeling well," the medic turned away, on-lining his comm. link.

Clench was the mech in charge of the rings. He controlled who fought with who in the fights, made credits off bits and wagers and he was a heavy drinker. He was often to be found dealing with the senators who came to see his fights.

He was also a fragger who would sell any of his gladiators to the highest bidder with just the right price or threat.

Leaning Megatron gave a soft sigh of relief. He smiled when Ravage gave an affectionate nuzzle to his helm.

The smile disappeared however when Soundwave just looked at him. From the way his body was turned slightly to the side, it usually meant the telepath was uneasy and seemed to worried or suspicious. Something told the silver mech it was the former.

He reached out and touched his friend's arm, "Everything's fine Wave, see? Just a bad migraine, nothing medication and can't cure, right?"

If only he knew…If only he knew…

...

Review please. No flames. Sorry this is so short...


	5. Chapter 4: After Dusk

Disclaimer: I do not own Transfromers, it belongs to Hasbro. Period.

Warnings: angst, some interface(consensual)/ mentions of assault(non-con), and some scenes of sickness.

Also, there is slash. If you don't like it, please politely turn around and don't read this if you don't like slash.

Chapter 4 is here to stay! My muse is in a very good mood this week!

As always, Morrigayn, thank you so much for helping me with ideas.

enjoy!

...

Chapter 4: After Dusk

...

In his personal room at the bar that evening, Clench counted out his credits on a data-pad from today's pit fights. He looked over the credits from the betting pool and the earnings from the gladiators sponsors.

When a gladiator is given a sponsor, any credits donated went to the head of the arenas in order to keep living in them. It didn't matter if they fought good, if the gladiator did not make enough, they were kicked to the streets.

Clench didn't care which sponsor he gave one of his gladiators, unless it had a negative effect on the income of credits he would receive. In cases like that, he personally stepped in with bribes, black-mail or threats.

He snickered, his glossa licking over his denta. The scent of aged high-grade filled the room as.

There was a knock, making him look up from his work.

The door was opened before he answered by a bright red, risqué armored femme, one servo on the electrum nob and the other on the side of her curvy hips.

"Clench, there's a mech here to see you," she looked annoyed and bored.

Groaning, the head of the Kaon pit fights picked up his cube of energon and replied, "Tell 'em I'm busy…."

"Sir, it's the mech from Iacon."

He spat some of the liquid out at the sudden news before he shook his helm to clear the buzz form his processor. Wiping the energon form his chest plate and chin, he barked at the femme to let the mech in, before clearing the table before him.

A hooded mech entered the room, nodding to the young femme before taking a seat across from Clench. When the door behind him close, he removed his hood.

"Straxus, my old friend…" Clench reached out to place a hand on the dark mech's shoulder, only to have it firmly pushed away by the upper-class mech.

Red optics narrowed in a sneer, "I didn't come here just to visit."

Blowing air past his lip plates, Clench rolled his optics before he opened a compartment in his arm and pulled out a light purple data-pad and handed it to the dark mech.

Straxus took it and scanned it over with the optics of critical, nit-picky customer reviewing the information of the item he wished to obtain. As he read, Clench poured himself some more high-grade, offering some to the son of a Councilor, who politely refused the beverage with his optics glued to the data-pad.

The Master of the Pit Fighting Arena drank his cube, looking back and forth anxiously and once or twice looking at the data pads on the floor that held his precious credits he had earned form betting and sponsoring today. He then began to talk as the high-grade took its effects on his control.

"So, I hope de matches today were entertainin' enough for ya, Straxus…" his slurred slightly.

"Mmmm," Straxus listened a little, running his fingers down the side as he looked at the list of names of the gladiators that were open for a sponsor, "One match in particular has confirmed my decision on your offer in fact…."

Immediately, the lower-class mech sat up with excited greed in his optics.

"Ya mean ya're gonna pick out a gladiator ta sponsor?!" he practically shouted it, as some spittle sprayed from his mouth and on to Straxus' armor and cloak.

Face plates scrunched in disgust, Straxus reached up and wiped it away from his armor.

"Possibly…." The strained tone was a warning not to test his patience, at which the drunk mech quickly heeded and went silent.

He scrolled down the data-pad until he stopped the movement by tapping the screen once. A grin formed on his lips, revealing two pointed denta in his mouth in a pleased expression.

With a small chuckle, he turned the data-pad to show the pit fighter master his chosen.

Optics widened in surprised, Clench squeaked in a voice high enough to be a femme's, "Ya want Megatron?!"

The dark mech tensed, "Is there a problem with my choice?"

Immediately, the mech raised his hands in a calming as well as defensive gesture, "Nothin', nothin' sir, just that Megs is….well he ain't a particular favorite of de other sponsors due to him not…well, not being a….ya know…"

"I'd rather have a gladiator experienced in that field, than have to go over the guidelines of seal-breaking and interfacing, thank you…" the sharp cut off, was enough to make the mech gape at him in slight surprise.

Straxus had been watching the gladiator for many deca-cycles now from the sidelines. He knew what he wanted and by the hand of Primus, he would get that mech. He didn't care if he was used goods or a pure virgin, he wanted the fighter and nothing was going to stop him.

Clench realized by the possessive determination on Straxus' face that if he named a hundred things wrong about being Megatron's sponsor, it would not sway him in the slightest. It just surprised him that one of the most wealthiest mechs wanted a rough, used mech. He gave a mental shrug. If Straxus wanted to give his credits away on this fighter, then who was he to deny him? Credits were credits.

He took out another data-pad and picked up a stylus for the rich mech.

"Just sign ya name 'ere Straxus."

"…and what exactly am I signing?" the suspicion in his voice told him that Straxus was no stranger to being cheated.

Thankfully, Clench didn't have to cheat anyone this time, "Just a legal print sayin' you are a sponsor and that Megatron is de mech you sponsoring. He is yours ta do as you please in any way, shape or form. Also states the do's and don'ts in what you can do with him."

Straxus read over the information to make sure he didn't miss anything. With a small nod that said he was impressed with the organization of this form, he wrote his signature on the data-pad.

A smirk formed at Clench's face as he was handed back the form.

Now, to tell Megatron about his sponsor without being butchered.

…..

Megatron exited the gladiatorial pits after taking two pills of medication. He could feel the effects take place, dulling the ache in his processor to the point that it was unnoticeable.

Soundwave had promised to cover for him and the cassettes were deep in recharge after he and the telepath gave each creation a good bath in the washracks and some energon to help them sleep. He made sure they were all fully in recharge, for he wanted to make sure they didn't follow him, out of fear that they would get lost in Kaon or get into big trouble where he could not intervene.

The sun of Cybertron had set, leaving only the stars against the black sheet of night and there were no matches to keep him away any longer from Optimus.

And yet, despite the warm joy that spread through his body, his thoughts about the bonding band were swimming around in his helm. With each step he took, the thoughts began to become clearer and sharper as he moved.

Honestly, if Optimus asked him about the bonding band tonight, he still wouldn't have made up his mind if he wanted to or not.

When he measured the pros and cons in his processor, his spark ached, longed and fluctuated in want and need for the Prime's. He loved Optimus, he truly did with every inch of his being from outside in, but could they be together in such a way? Especially with danger lurking about?

He slowed down in his walking as he reached the border between Kaon and Iacon. He looked back up at the sky, rolling his shoulder struts to try and relax his body. He stretched a bit and mumbled something under his intakes to himself.

As he crossed the border, he heard someone whistling. It was a soft and small tune. An old Cybertronian nursery rhyme grown mechs and femmes taught their sparklings.

The silver mech smirked, before he turned and saw Optimus by a light post whistling the rhyme as he watched Megatron walk towards him. His mask was gone, revealing his angelic features that made any living mech want to feel and memorize them by touch alone.

A smile was on the Prime's face plates as he felt those callous, smooth ebony hands smooth over his neck and the armor plating over his shoulder struts. The caresses were met by a deep, rumbling purr as a kiss was pressed gently to Megatron's thin, gentle lips.

Pressing his forehelm to the gladiator's, Optimus wrapped his arms loosely around his waist and pulled him to his body with a pleased grin.

Megatron returned it with a small smile, just a light tug on his lips as he felt the gentle blue servo take his black one, their digits intertwining as they walked through the dark alleyway and into a quiet and deserted area. No mechs or femmes about, not even a few sparklings playing in the streets.

Looking back and forth, Optimus led Megatron towards a large wall, tall and strong, yet there was a large crevice, a huge crack that was wide enough for the two mechs to enter through it sideways and tall enough for them to get through without scraping their helms.

It was the ancient ruins of Iacon, blocked off to the outsiders. It was blocked due to the debris and many stayed away due to the fact that only a Prime and those he allowed access could go in. No one knew the real purpose they went in, except that there was a strange, spiritual energy in the place, something ancient, strange and wise.

As they went through, Megatron couldn't help feeling a little uncomfortable with the way the rough, jagged sides scraped against his front and back armor plating. He held Optimus' servo almost afraid he would be trapped in the crevice and Prime would have to yank him out. The thought made him snort a bit before the pressure suddenly disappeared, feeling the coolness of the open space around him.

Immediately, the silver gladiator could feel like there was a third presence. It made him look around a moment with paranoia creeping through. He flinched when a gently hand touched his arm, belonging to his lover.

He relaxed when he saw Prime before he followed him towards large steps that lead to a half covered temple. The roof was broken with a large hole through it, enough to allow the sweet moonlight to shine through and give off its gently beams.

When they were inside, again, Megatron felt uneasiness when he saw it all. Then his optics settled on the tall lone figure, making his body tense in immediate fear and preparation to fight. That is until he noticed Optimus walking towards the figure and then bowed to it.

The form remained unmoving. It didn't take long for Megatron to realize that Optimus was kneeling before a statue. A statue of Primus the creator of all Cybertronians.

Megatron stared at it and as he stared at it, he suddenly felt a need to look away as if he had no right to gaze upon the statue of Cybertron's sacred creator. He kept his helm turn even as he heard Prime whispering an ancient Cybertronian prayer that no one but a Prime would know.

He jumped slightly when Prime turned him around to face him again.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently.

Megatron sighed, "Yes, I am fine Optimus. I just don't know why we're here."

One of the light blue hands reached up and took his chin between the digits, making him face his lover, "Do you know why Primes and their companions are the only ones allowed to enter the ruins of Iacon?"

The silver mech shook his helm in answer. He really didn't understand why the Council had closed this to the public. Optimus turned to look back at the statue.

"It's where Primes once brought their lovers to be blessed by Primus…..that is if they planned to bond with them…"

Megatron stiffened, looking at Optimus with one of his optics flickering for a few seconds. The Prime raised his servos to show he was trying not to push anything on him, he was just throwing it out there. The silver mech rolled his optics, feeling slight irritation. Prime, always the passive one and trying to keeping from getting into a fight with him.

Although he hated to fight with the Prime, his attempt to keep a peaceful existence with him caused the gladiator some unease. It sometimes made him wonder if Optimus had an actual back strut under his armor plating.

"Still thinking about it…." He grumbled.

Prime nodded to him, no hesitation nor did he show any relief with his answer. He just remained tense before holding his servo out for him to take it. Instead the gladiator gave him a look.

Optimus sighed, feeling like an idiot right now. He had tried to be subtle about wanting an answer soon, the best way he could by showing Megatron the old ruins where the past leaders went to the creator of all. Now he knew Megatron was irritated by the way his optics were slightly narrowed, his hip slightly cocked and his arms were crossed over his chest plating.

He took in a deep intake, "Forgive me if I offended you…."

"You didn't Optimus," _at least not directly or intentionally_, Megatron tapped at his arm, before he un-crossed his arms and went to the Prime.

He placed his servos on one of the bright crimson arms. He could feel the tension pulsing through wiring beneath the armor, the proto-form flexing slightly beneath. Lifting up one of them, Megatron caressed over the handsome face plates of the Prime. Immediately, Optimus' shoulders slumped and he leaned into the gentle palm.

Despite himself, Megatron smiled as the Prime visibly went lax at his touch. Optimus smiled at him, sky sapphire optics glittering brighter than anything the ruins could show, even with two of Cybertron's moons glowing through the cracked ceiling and down over the two lovers.

Any irritation or annoyance at Optimus' behavior the silver fighter had dissipated and morphed into something warm. Something that caused all the negative emotions, his worries that seemed to form and cause heaviness in his spark, place a grip on his mind and to just go away, even if it was only for a little while.

Optimus leaned down to kiss the younger mech's lips and all the rest of the universe didn't matter to the two of them.

…..

Soundwave stared at the head of the Gladiatorial arena, his optic ridge quirked behind his visor, "Apologies. Soundwave: Must have misheard Clench."

Clench gave a small burp for his first answer, a half full energon cube of high-grade in one servo, and three data-pads in the other that he held out for the telepath to take, "Oh ya heard me correctly, almighty logical one…" he staggered a bit, "De search for a sponsor for one of my best gladiators is oveh!"

The navy blue mech looked at his, Megatron and every other gladiator of Kaon's boss with an unimpressed posture of his arms crossed over his chest plating. On the inside however his spark hammered like he was just headed for a spark attack. It was late in the night, he had been working on regulating some of the credits he and Megatron had made from their matches to see how much they had saved for recording and he would check on his cassettes who were in recharge on the berth Soundwave would share with them across from Megatron's.

"Query: Why tell me this? Soundwave: Not the one getting sponsored," He knew why Clench was telling him this.

Clench deeply valued his life and rousing Megatron's wrath would end with his helm torn off and hanging up on the wall. He wasn't an idiot. Far from it actually. If anyone had an inkling of what kind of calculating and strategic genius laid under that drunken slow processor, they would think twice before getting into business with him.

It was sometimes a gift and a curse that Soundwave was a telepath. He could keep Clench in check as best he could, but even someone like Wave couldn't keep the mech from doing whatever he wanted with his mechs. The telepath only ever got involved with Clench's affairs where Megatron or his children were concerned.

"Well, ya know how Megsy is," Clench clicked his glossa, "He'd take it bettah hearing from you..." he gave a small jerk and looked like he was about to purge, causing Soundwave to take a step back to prepare himself to duck just in case. But instead of purging, Clench just swallowed his half processed energon back down, "….sides, been too busy tryin' ta seal the deal ya know Wave?" one of his bulky arms wrapped around Soundwave's shoulders.

Soundwave pulled away from the gesture, feeling the disgust for this mech running through him, "Query: Why me?"

"Ya're de glitch's friend, right? Dere for ya're de best candidate…ta tell 'im…." Clench shuttered his optics, looking around with a slightly dazed look as if he had forgotten where he was. Then he handed the data-pads to him, "Give des ta Megs in case 'e don't believe ya…and don't even think about destroyin' dem….I gotta few extra copies…." With one last parting burp, the old mech turned and staggered away.

The moment he was gone, Soundwave took the three data-pads, calmly walked back into the quarters he shared with his best friend, and placed the data-pads on his desk. The navy mech picked up one of his throwing knives. He didn't used them often when he fought. They were kept in good condition and he made sure they remained clean and polished.

He twirled one of them in his digits for a moment as he cracked his neck. There was a sudden soft knock on the door, before whoever was there just opened it.

"Yo Wave, ya got any—?"

KA-PLANG!

Soundwave was panting angrily as the knife became sheathed in the wall outside the door where the mech who had entered without permission had been standing in front of. He was now curled up, squatting at the floor and shaking.

"Jeez mech, what the pit was—?!"

SLAM!

The telepath slammed the door in the mech's face, not bothering to go and retrieve his knife. He stood there a moment and leaned against the door with his helm bowed and his frame shaking.

How had this happened? How in the names of Unicron's heralds, the highest peaks of the Well, the deepest parts of the pits had he, Soundwave, the telepath, the eyes and ears of the Gladiatorial pits ALLOWED his best friend to become a play thing for that pompous, no good, selfish, higher-classed fragger, when he was already seeing another mech?!

The telepath banged his helm against the door a few times before removing his mask and visor, sick of his voice being hidden by that blasted mono tone. He growled and rubbed at his optics before falling to the ground on his knees with angered tears beginning their flow.

"Mom?"

Soundwave looked up. Standing there, with slightly frightened optics stood his creations who stared at him. For a moment that's all they did: stare at each other, the younglings nervous about approaching their carrier in such an emotional state. When Soundwave opened an arm towards them however, it was a signal for them to come to their distraught creator.

The telepath allowed his children to get as close as they could to listen to the beating of his spark and just stay close so he would be able to feel the unique rhythms of each creation's spark beat against his own. It gave him a sense of comfort at the close proximity of the small beings that meant the world to him.

In silence, the small family just stayed together as their connected sparks kept beating and sending soothing emotions through the creator-creation links that Soundwave shared with them. Tilting his helm back Soundwave looked at the ceiling of the small quarters, already trying to think of a way he could break the news easily to his closest friend form the earliest years of their child hood.

_This is going to be fun,_ he thought to himself, the sardonic tone to his own thoughts not helping matters much.

...

Poor Wave and Clench is a drunken aft-hat. Review please. No flames.


	6. Chapter 5: News

Disclaimer: I do not own Transfromers, it belongs to Hasbro. Period.

Warnings: angst, some interface(consensual)/ mentions of assault(non-con), and some scenes of sickness.

Also, there is slash. If you don't like it, please politely turn around and don't read this if you don't like slash.

Here's chapter five guys, sorry, my e-mail was acitng weird, but now it's back in ship shape!

As always, Morrigayn, thank you so much for helping me with ideas.

enjoy!

...

Chapter 5: News

...

The stars and the moons of the night sky shone their dimmed lights across the planet of pure metal like a translucent ghost that swept over a surface of solidness. Iacon was still in its nightly silence. The towers were merely outlined figures of light bluish white.

The citizens of Iacon slept soundly in their berths, the high and middle-classed deep in recharge as they rested themselves for the new day at dawn.

But two mechs, though barely, were awake and deep in the ruins where no one would ever think to find anyone if they needed to look.

Megatron was laid out beneath the Prime on the grey-white floor, his mind blank and his circuits humming as he remained lying there with gentle digits caressing his cheek, the moonlight making a shadow cast over Optimus' face plates as it shined over his back, the only part of his face shining brighter were those beautiful blue optics that had been bright with unbridled, unhidden lust and love. Now they were dimmed after the third, fourth, possibly fifth overload.

They were unsure as they just laid there, stripped to their bare proto-form and their armor scattered from sloppy quickness to get to the main part of their interfacing. Megatron used Optimus' arm behind his helm as a pillow. He off-lined his optics as Prime's lips gently slid over the gladiator's, and sent a small tingle up his back struts and made him shudder as the remaining tingle of pleasure ran through him from post-overload but it wasn't enough to arouse him again as his systems were long overtaxed from being overloaded and pleasured by his skilled lover and his systems began to off-line for recharge.

Optimus smiled as his gladiator slid into the peaceful darkness of recharge beneath him. He waited until he was deep in recharge before slowly shifting around so that Megatron was on his side and their chest plates were pressed together. Prime shivered as he felt the barely there beating beneath the closed chest plates of his lover.

Oh how he wanted to see the spark and soul beneath the hardened body of the pit fighter. He wanted to feel the life force pressed against his in the ultimate act of love and trust, to feel the others thoughts, emotions and to be completely connected to him…it scared the Prime as much as he longed for it. There was so much risk with bonding with the silver mech…if the Council ever found out…..he didn't even want to consider the consequences.

Besides, Megatron was a good mech. He was strong, passionate and he understood the dangers as well. And there was no law that dictated that a Prime had to have the Council know he had a bond-mate…

Optimus pulled the silver mech closer if it was possible, before kissing his neck and cheek.

"I love you…" he hissed, softly now that he was sure the silver fighter was deep enough in his sleep to not hear him.

Megatron knew he loved him, so he didn't have to hear it that much, did he?

…

_EEP! EEP! EEP! _

Soundwave snorted out of recharge, at the screeching beeping of his internal alarm. The navy mech groaned as he leaned the back of his helm against the cold, dark walls of the shared quarters. He felt the weight and warmth of his creations, each other curled up against him and either purring, cooing or snoring softly.

Laserbeak had her helm tucked under one of her wings as she was snuggled against the telepath's neck, her twin, Buzzkill, rested his helm against her neck as he made the soft cooing sound. Ravage was on his back in Soundwave's lap, with his small paws in the air and his helm lolled back as he purred like he was the most content mech in the world. One of his paws twitched as he made a slightly guttural purr and a small snarl in his recharge. On his other shoulder was the youngest, little Ratbat, his tiny and delicate wings wrapped around his smaller body as he hung upside down from the side of Soundwave's helm. Against his chest plates, his twins Rumble and Frenzy curled up and were nestled against him as they snored softly.

The carrier smiled at his children, feeling his spark at ease at how close they were to him never mind he couldn't really move without waking them from their peaceful recharge. He couldn't remember the last time his creations had cuddled up with him like this.

He was able to ignore the feeling of dread at the news he would have to tell Megatron when he returned to their quarters. Speaking was which, had the silver mech come back yet.

Soundwave lifted his younger twins up while trying to keep his shoulders so he could kiss Rumble and Frenzy's helms gently before he snapped his mask back over his face plates. But instead of awakening his own children to rise with him for the day, Soundwave just leaned his helm back and basked in the moment while his mind began coming up with different scenarios of how he was going to tell Megatron that he now had a sponsor without the risk of a rampage throughout the arena.

After all, if this was going to be his final moment with his creations, he might as well enjoy it.

…

When he returned to the Gladiatorial arena, now fully armored with a barely noticeable limp in hi step, Megatron went straight to the nearest energon dispenser for his morning energon, with a smile on his face plates as a small tingling ran through his circuitry as an aftereffect of last night's recent activities. After interfacing, the silver mech was usually in need of refueling and this time was no different.

Well, it would have been no different.

"MEGATRON!"

He jumped and snapped around, dropping his cube of low grade as he got into a battle stance. His audios rang briefly from the mech yelling right into his audios and he was ready for any oncoming ambush. When he saw a young bright red mech standing before him however, he relaxed and gave a sigh of slight relief but mostly annoyance.

"Primus Redsky, are you so immature that you can't remember that sneaking up and yelling into a mech's audio is rude?" he reprimanded the younger mech.

Redsky was a new rookie that joined. He was being mentored by the gladiator Goldenfright, a respected, old shuttle gladiator who was retired from fighting and stayed to teach the rookies how to survive and win. Megatron found the little upstart annoying, to say the least since he considered himself to be a gift to Cybertron by Primus, despite being the weakest fighter of all the gladiators. He wouldn't last long in an actual fight.

The red seeker mech ignored his rebuke, looking like he had just seen Unicron only seconds ago, "S-S-S-S-Sound-So-Soundwave almost KILLED ME mech!"

His optics ridge raised up at the words, "Pardon?"

"That—That psycho mind reader tried to murder me when I went to ask if he had anymore polish used to shine the swords in the armory!" Redsky squeaked, his wings raising dramatically high while pointing at himself in emphasis.

The older mech stared at the rookie with narrowed optics, "I'd watch your tongue mechling, before making such accusations and insults…" his voice was low, a hiss that made painful promises of never ending torment, despite how calm he appeared.

Redsky cringed slightly from the small glare he received, his dramatic hysterics suddenly quashed into meek, fear filled quietness, "B-but it's true sir…S-Soundwave threw a dagger at me…here, I even brought it with me…."

Megatron held out his servo, a silent command for the young mech to fork over the weapon. The moment the small weapon was placed in his palm, he brought it to his face plates to study it intently. He tested it's light weight, caressed the surface and the edge for the sharpness before he threw it upwards to make it spin the air before catching it between his digits.

The markings on it were definitely familiar as they deeply resembled the symbols on the other daggers his best friend kept in his personal stack of weapons he kept in a safe place so his children wouldn't play with them and thieves wouldn't get them. Gently, the silver mech placed the dagger into his sub-space.

The dagger was Soundwave's, but he had never heard of Soundwave ever wanting to intentionally harm someone unless they had provoked him or he was already provoked and someone had approached him without realizing it. But Wave was a controlled and cool mech with a fuse that was long enough to wrap around Cybertron ten hundred times. What could have possibly gotten him that angry?

Maybe Redsky had stolen the dagger to frame Soundwave. That option was immediately shot down though when it crossed his thoughts. Redsky may not be the brightest mech in the place, but even he wouldn't be dumb enough to steal from Soundwave.

Sighing, Megatron shook his helm, feeling his processor begin to ache due to the stress of dealing with this upstart and he needed to take his medication, "I'll go talk to him."

Redsky looked shocked by the silver mech's neutral, bored tone, "That's all you have to say?! I could have died!" a dark servo grabbed his neck and lifted him to Megatron's optic level.

"Let's make one thing clear," He growled, "I could care less what happens to you, but I do care about what happens to Soundwave. So, why don't you just forget about this little misunderstanding right now and let me handle Wave. Otherwise, I'll have a few friends of mine from the higher rings come down and deal with you…" he lifted up his fist threateningly to the rookies face plates, "Do you understand me?"

The seeker rookie nodded his helm in fast jerking movements, optics wide in fear as he looked about ready to leak transmission fluid. He was dropped without preamble to the floor on his aft as Megatron turned and walked down the corridor to his shared quarters.

….

Soundwave gave each of his cassettes a small cube of low grade energon to start their day. Due to their small size, they didn't need as much energon as older and larger mechs did. The telepath smiled at them as he watched Rumble and Frenzy blow small bubbles into their energon, while Ratbat chirred and mewled excitedly as he lapped up his energon cube.

Ravage drank his quietly as he watched his younger siblings with a certain paranoia in his optics. Laserbeak and Buzzkill chirped, whistled and squawked in conversation from their perches above the grounders.

As he creator watched over them, he sighed as he thought about still how Megatron would react to the news that he would become some high ranking mech's…..

A shiver of disgust ran through his back as the mere thought of it. How could Clench do this to one of his star gladiators? Didn't he know how hard Megatron worked to get out of those accursed mines because of that very reason? Because lechers of the higher-class would harass and terrorize the workers that bled and died to energize their planet?

The only reason Soundwave wasn't freaking out now was because he didn't want to worry his sons and only daughter. Besides, he could have a moment to do so when they were out of the room and he could silently vent by practicing his aim at the worn out target hung on the wall with a picture torn up to the point no one recognized the mech's face.

The door opened, causing Soundwave to tense when he saw Megatron enter.

There was a loud screeching squeal, before the youngest of all the cassettes flapped his wings hard and fluttered over to the silver gladiator and wrap his massive wings around his helm and face plates while giving off happy squeals and mewls.

There was a moment of stumbling pedes and happy squeaks before the silver and red mech cried out, "Whoa there!"

Ebony hands gently reached up and hooked under the little one's wings. With a soft tug, he was able to undo their hold with gentleness. He cradled the little bat in his servos, giving a small chuckle as he tapped the snout.

"Primus, one of these solar-cycles, _you_ little Ratbat, are going to cause me to off-line from a spark attack…" he grinned as he scratched under the little one's chin as he told him this.

He only smiled wider when the little one wrapped his wings almost entirely around his servo and nuzzled it with affectionate licks.

"Ratbat: only happy to see his Nana."

"Gyagh, Soundwave…" Megatron pointed a finger at the telepath with a warning narrow of his optics.

Although he preferred to be called either uncle or just by his name, and he would have killed anyone else who called him "Nana", the silver gladiator couldn't seem to bring himself to have Ratbat call him anything else but by that silly, ridiculous name. The little one's siblings didn't call him that, so it made it even more stranger that the gladiator allowed the youngest to. He's been called Megs, Megsy, Uncle Megs, Meggy, little silver spark and names he would not repeat in the presence of younglings and sparkling. "Nana" was most definitely not one he would ever expect to be called especially since he was a gladiator.

As much as he tries to deny it in front of everyone, Megatron absolutely loved these five little sparklings. It probably started when Soundwave had Ravage and had the silver mech watch over him when he had a match to do.

When he had the little cyber-cat all snuggled up on his chest plating and purring softly at the sound of the spark while the both waited for Soundwave's return, the silver mech completely and utterly loved the little one like he was his own by the end of the night-cycle.

After a moment of the little bat nuzzling and giving little kisses to the gladiator's digits, Ratbat stood up and flapped back over to his siblings.

Ravage padded over, with his twin brothers following him and rubbed himself along the gladiator's pedes while purring happily to him. Rumble and Frenzy babbled at the same time both jumping excitedly with giggles and attempting to see who could talk over whom.

Soundwave couldn't stop the small chuckle that escaped him as he watched the gladiator reach down and pick up all three of them. He almost forgot about the news he had for him, but he did remember and he felt a small sense of guilt that he would have to break up the happy scene before him. Besides, by the way Megatron winced slightly the loud noise of two chattering younglings did nothing to help with his ailing processor aches.

"Rumble. Frenzy. Ravage."

The twins and dark feline looked up at the summons going quiet immediately.

"Soundwave: needs to speak with Uncle," Soundwave's visor gave a small glint of his visor.

The two little mechs and cyber-cat hesitated, but they nodded and pulled away from the silver gladiator to go back to the table. Although, Soundwave didn't miss the slight slump in the young ones postures as they passed him.

Megatron watched them go before standing up to face Soundwave.

The two friends just stood there and stared at each other for a moment. Soundwave took in a deep intake before opening his mouth start.

"Soundwave, did you throw a dagger at Redsky?"

The telepath froze, as the gladiator gave him a slightly concerned look with a tilt of his helm. The blue mech stared for a moment in surprise, a bit taken aback by the question.

"Query: What was the question?" he wanted to make sure he heard right.

Megatron raised an optic ridge slightly, "Redsky came to me when I went to get an energon cube. He said you threw a dagger at his helm," he lifted up the throwing dagger.

"….Dagger: Soundwave's," the blue mech replied a little curtly.

"I wasn't sure if he was ly—wait what?" Megatron shuttered his optics at the admission, quite unsure if he had heard him or not correctly.

The telepath took in a deep intake, almost sounding like he was exasperated, "Dagger: Belongs to Soundwave. Soundwave: was….angry."

Surprise, question and concern mixed in a ruby whirlpool within the gladiator's optics as he looked at the navy telepath with his complete attention. Megatron eyed him, before placing a black servo on his friend's shoulder—with slight hesitance—and looked him right in the visor.

It seemed….un-logical that Soundwave lost he temper at Redsky simply barging it. Yes the young mech was annoying but the only way anyone almost receive a dagger to the helm was either that they had angered him earlier and had been asking it or they had walked in on him already angry and emotionally unbalanced.

For some reason, Megatron had the slightest suspicion that it was the latter no matter how much he wished to deny it if only to save some of Soundwave's dignified controlled persona. His friend hated losing control of emotions in front of those who did not know him. It was one thing to do it in front of Megatron, the mech knew his moves and knew how to keep form harming the telepath, while avoiding being harmed in the process.

After a moment of looking his oldest friend in the optics, Megatron took in a deep intake while holding back an oncoming processor ache, and asked, "Soundwave, did something happen to make you angry enough to almost kill Redsky?"

There was immediately tensions tightening Soundwave's shoulders, his helm bowed in order to avoid optic contact. Only after a long moment of silence did Soundwave dare to look up at his closest friend on the whole planet of Cybertron.

He could lie and tell him he had gotten into a fight with Redsky. He could tell him he had had a rough night or that he was stressed. He could even make Megatron forget about finding out about the dagger right now if he so wanted.

But he couldn't do it. Even if it meant sparing his friend the pain of having a sponsor, Soundwave knew the trust he shared with Megatron was one of the most cherished thing he could ever have, and he would never do something like that to break it.

Because even though it would have been easier to do, it wouldn't be right to do that to a mech who held so much trust and brotherly love for him.

Taking in a deep intake and looking directly into his friend's face plates, he deactivated his vocoder and spoke in his normal voice.

"Megatron, you have a sponsor."

...

CLIFFY! MUHUAHAHAHA!

Review please. No flames.


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